Ruthless Bishop: Dark New Adult High School Bully Romance (Sinners and Saints Book 3)

by Veronica Eden

  Looking at it causes a riot in my body. I shy away.

  Every photo I’ve ever sent Henry flashes in my head, along with the discomfort and uncertainty I felt every time I pushed back, only to be convinced to do what he asked. My stomach hurts. I block every thought about Henry from my mind, too vulnerable to think of those memories.

  “Please,” I whisper, throat burning. “I don’t want to, Connor. I just want it to stop. It’s too much.”

  A rough sound escapes him as he gathers me in his arms. “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t want to hurt you with this. Just—fuck, okay, I know I messed up, but I’m trying to fix it. I don’t want him touching you.” Leaning back, he tries to hand me the evidence again. “Just look at the pictures in the file. He’s got these creepy as shit trophies and necklaces with names. Your name!”

  Another memory floats to the surface, murky and heart-stopping. There was a gift Henry said he had for me. Something special to show he cared. My stomach plummets.

  “I have to go. I-I can’t be here right now.”

  Connor growls, fisting his hands in his hair. “Thea!”

  Pushing him back, I spring up from the bed. He stands from his kneel, following me as I pace across the room, whirling back, only to spin away again as thoughts run through my head.

  “You asked me to tell you,” he says. “I swore I would, and now you don’t want to hear it.”

  “This isn’t what I thought you’d say! How did you expect me to react to all this? I’m not—I’m not a—”

  I can’t force the word out. It sits on the tip of my tongue, driving daggers into me.

  “Jesus,” Connor snaps, throwing his fist into the wall when he can’t control his temper.

  I jump at the force of it, heart in my throat. I can’t stand by and watch him injure himself with self-destructive behavior. It breaks me out of my spiral.

  “What are you doing?” I rush to his side, taking his wrist to examine his red knuckles and the damage left behind in the wall. “Why?”

  Connor clenches his jaw and a muscle twitches. “Seemed like a good idea.”

  “It wasn’t.” Sighing, I drop his hand. “I really can’t do this right now.”

  “Look, we’ll start over at the beginning.” He holds up the file. “You have to listen.”

  It’s too much to handle with Connor pressuring me to face a truth I can’t cope with. I run my fingers through my hair and swallow past the searing heat in my throat. “Please. I can’t.”

  “Thea, listen to me.” He drops the file on the bed. “Let me explain.”

  “No! You should’ve told me right away instead of this. I thought we told each other everything.” I’m near a breaking point, lashing out to protect myself from what I can’t look at directly. It crushes me to see the disappointment on his face. My chest heaves and my voice grows small. “I thought we were past the lies and games.”

  “It’s not like you told me about this, either!” As soon as he says it, he jerks his head, holding a hand out to me. “Fuck, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. All of it was to protect you from Coleman. This isn’t what I wanted, baby.”

  Connor takes my hand as I rush toward the door. I tug free from his grip.

  “Don’t leave.”

  “I need to go. I just want to go lay down. I’m supposed to meet Maisy at the holiday market later. I came here to invite you, but…I think it’s best if we both cool off. I need time and space to process this.”

  “Thea, please.” He captures me in his arms and spins me around. “I’m sorry I ambushed you like this.”

  I lean back against the door. Everything feels too confusing. “You hurt me with your lie.”

  He releases a ragged breath, gray eyes filled with the same anguish plaguing me. “I never want to hurt you. Ever.”

  Despite the disappointment and anger, for a second I stay in his arms. A lump forms in my throat. I can’t turn off the love I feel for him. I allow the safety of his strong embrace to be the balm I need.

  “Let me go. We’ll talk later. I just need to go be alone for a while. I’ll think about what you said.”

  Connor’s arms tighten around me before he steps back. We stare at each other for a beat, then I turn the knob.

  “Wait,” he says. “Here, take this with you.” He pushes the thick file into my hands. “Look at it and call me when you’re ready to talk.” Taking my chin in his thumb and finger, he stares into my eyes. “I’m sorry I kept this from you. I’m sorry for hacking your computer, for everything. We’ll do this together, like we should’ve from the start.”

  “Fine. But I need time.” I pause on the threshold, glancing back. “Please don’t do anything reckless.”

  The sight of Connor watching me walk away from him, face etched with the suppressed rage he battles against sears into my brain.

  It’s only once I make it inside my house and step under the blistering spray of hot water in the shower that I let the tears free.

  Thirty-Four

  Thea

  A week that started off with an amazing night in the mountains has turned into the hardest of my life. I had an aunt that lost her life too young. My boyfriend’s mom cares more about her political career and image than her son’s happiness. My boyfriend admitted he spied on me.

  And the accusation of something even worse. Someone stalking and grooming me for years.

  Victim.

  The word causes my chest to cave. Crying in the shower hasn’t made my fear of the word fade. Or what I’m blocking behind brick walls in my mind. They’re cracking fast, crumbling to dust no matter how much I want to keep hiding from it.

  The only thing the shower helped me see clearly was that I shouldn’t have lashed out at Connor. I was putting all the blame on him because I was so scared to face questions I’ve asked myself about Henry.

  It hurts that Connor spied on me, but as I pick through the denial with a clearer head, I see the real problem is Henry. What he really was. What he did.

  I don’t think I can stress bake my way out of this one.

  Once the initial anger faded, burning off fast, I understood I was scared in the pool house. Afraid to face the truth beneath the surface all these years.

  Some part of me knew it wasn’t right, but I always pushed it aside. Now the burn of pain and humiliation is blistering. It’s something that could happen to anyone, but I never thought it would be me.

  I sat under the spray until it ran lukewarm, leaving my body pink and tender. It didn’t wash away the feelings slithering beneath my skin.

  Online boyfriend. It was the easiest way to explain away that I was talking about private things with someone I’d met on the internet. Easier to say we were together, because sending photos and having the intimate conversations we did…pretending to act out fantasies. I swallow thickly, shying from the thought. The things I did with Henry were the things couples do. I did them because if I didn’t, he’d break up with me. But that doesn’t make it okay.

  What he did to me was wrong.

  He used me. Abused me. Manipulated me when I was vulnerable, making sure I felt like shit if I refused to give him what he demanded. Punishing me for it with his silence until I was running back into his arms like a good little pet.

  Henry was not an online boyfriend.

  He is a predator.

  Not only did he feed on my insecurities about my body—he made them worse. He actively whispered in my ear to knock me back in the dirt whenever I felt strong enough to overcome the negative thoughts, dragging me down with his claws into a pit of despair where he was the one in control of my happiness if he felt like giving it. If I did what he wanted.

  Fear, that was how he controlled me.

  A wheeze cracks my throat as I sit down hard on my bed, digging my fingers into the damp towel wrapped around me.

  After a long minute, I lick my lips and take a deep breath.

  “I am a victim,” I say hoarsely, wincing at the word once more.

  Sa
ying it out loud makes it real. I can’t run from it when it lives in my bones, lurking in my memories. I tremble on the bed, my knuckles white.

  Did I bring this on myself? I responded to his attention in the first place.

  As soon as the thought enters my mind, I vehemently refute it with a sharp jerk of my head. “No. I will not blame myself.”

  Nothing I do will change what happened to me. I was at a vulnerable age that caused a perfect storm. Mom might have driven my negative feelings about myself, but we both aren’t to blame for this. Henry preyed on me. He is the only one to blame.

  Acknowledgement of it all hurts. It’s embarrassing to think a smart girl like myself could be duped. The truth I never dared face rakes me raw.

  This is still a lot to think about all at once. I don’t know if I can do it by myself without breaking down. Before I’m swallowed by my emotions, I finish getting dressed.

  After a quick search online, I find therapists in the area who can help me process this. I save a list of potentials to the note app on my phone. Whether I decide to seek out therapy or not, I want to be prepared when I’m ready to cross that bridge.

  For now, I need to get ready or I’ll be late. Maisy is expecting me at the market. It’s one of our favorite holiday activities to do together. I’m not missing out on it when it’s exactly what I need—another afternoon with my best friend, hot chocolate with cinnamon and marshmallows, and something normal to take my mind off of all this for a while.

  In the car on the way to meet Maisy, more memories and thoughts worm their way through the decimated remains of the mental walls, painting everything in a new light. It makes my heart beat hard and my palms sweat.

  I want to stop thinking about it, but it’s like being dumped in ice water. Every time my mind jumps off it, the wet clothes remind me how tightly they cling to my skin. I don’t know how I lasted in denial about this for so long.

  Would I ever have figured this out without Connor? Or would I have buried it deep down, pretending it was harmless, when in reality it was a poison flaring up when I least expected it?

  Maybe I was an idiot.

  With a sigh, I park the car. I’m not an idiot, but my mind is still jumbled. I’m beating myself up for something I couldn’t control.

  I knew I was uncomfortable in some way talking to Henry, but I always brushed it off in order to please him, too worried to let go of the connection to him. What if I didn’t find someone else? I didn’t want to go back to being invisible again.

  “It will be okay,” I murmur.

  I grab my bag as I climb out of my car and follow the trickle of people walking to the holiday market. I didn’t have time to hide the file I took from Connor before I left, and I couldn’t chance Mom snooping, so I left it in my big purse and brought it with me. I might have come to terms with the truth about Henry abusing me, but I still need more time before going through whatever proof Connor handed over. Too much at once is devastating.

  Besides, I’m here to take my mind off of this and enjoy the market with Maisy.

  As I’m walking with the crowd, a couple catches my eye. I roll my lips between my teeth and push down the pang in my chest. I just need some time with Maisy, then I’ll talk to Connor.

  “Hey!” Maisy waves at me from the arched entrance wrapped in boughs of fir and festive ribbon. She’s wearing maroon yoga pants, knee-high boots, and a vintage boho-style fringe poncho with a dark green fair isle pattern. Once I’m close, she does a double take. “Whoa, dude. Are you okay?”

  I put on a little makeup to cover up before coming, but I guess it doesn’t do much to help my swollen eyes. If I get into it now, I’ll definitely break down again.

  “Yeah. Still raw from everything.” I offer a smile as I adjust the chunky scarf poking out of the neckline of my white wool coat. “I just want to have a good time.”

  “One good time, coming up.”

  Maisy hooks her arm with mine and leads us down the stall-lined main street. The folder sits heavily in my bag. My plan is to ignore it while Maisy and I stroll around the lively market.

  The heavenly scents of spiced meat, cider, cinnamon, cranberries, and pine trees fill the air. It’s everything winter and it smells amazing, lifting my spirits.

  Maisy leans into my side, fluttering her lashes as she rolls her eyes back dramatically. “Oh my god, it smells so good.”

  “It does.” This time my smile comes more easily. “First stop, hot drinks and pie pops?”

  She snaps her fingers and points at me. “You read my mind.”

  We veer left toward our favorite stall to kick off our yearly tradition. Maisy gets a hot cider and I ask for extra marshmallows in my hot chocolate. We toast each other, tapping our cherry pie pops before laughing into the huge bites we stuff in our mouths. It feels really good to laugh. The tart burst of fruit on my tongue makes everything feel a little better.

  “Ready to roll?” Maisy blows on her cider. “I think for this year’s prank gift, I’m getting my mom one of those carvings with moose crap.”

  I snort as we amble with the flow of traffic, pausing at a few stalls to check out the wares on display. Maisy has a tradition where she tries to annoy her mom by getting her the weirdest gift she can find every year, acting like she really thought her mom would love it. Neither of them will give in or back down, so Maisy forges on with her mission.

  “Trying to outdo that hideous cross stitch from last year?”

  “She didn’t even blink at that! I thought she would, I mean it was so detailed. How do you stitch shading for a bull’s balls? A true artist at work.”

  “That thing still gives me nightmares.”

  Maisy muffles a proud laugh as she sips her cider.

  A couple bumps into me at the next stall, not apologizing for being so wrapped up in each other they don’t notice me. My heart gives another feeble pang. The man’s cologne smells similar to the earthy one Connor wears. With a polite smile, I sidestep the pair to check out the crystals and gemstones on the shelves. Maisy makes a sound like she found one she likes, and gets lost in a conversation with the vendor about crystals for empowering and boosting yoga practice.

  I tune it out as I poke at the pretty stones on one of the tables. The basket at the end of the row stops me. It’s full of moonstones, reminding me of Connor once more.

  Gulping the dregs of my drink, I slip outside to toss the cup, putting him from my mind. I bump into someone.

  “Sorry!” I put my hands up to brace myself and catch my balance.

  “Thea.” Mr. Coleman gives me a handsome smile. “It’s so good to see you outside of class.”

  “Mr. C.” The high-octave surprise in my tone has him tipping his head. My bag suddenly weighs a thousand pounds with Connor’s file inside sitting like a brick. All the accusations float up to the forefront of my thoughts. They test the impression of the cool, kind teacher I thought of him as, small fissures running along the facade. An uncomfortable pitter-patter moves through my chest. I edge back a step, putting more distance between us. “Uh, hi. You’re here, too.”

  “I am. The holiday bazaar in Ridgeview is one of my favorites in the area. I’m a real sucker for the mulled wine.” He chuckles and reaches out to pat my shoulder. “I hope your break is going well.”

  He pauses when I flinch and step back again. Henry flashes in my mind and my skin crawls.

  Maisy saves me from answering, slinging her arm over my shoulder. “They had such a good deal on rose quartz!”

  “That’s great,” I say in a strained voice. “Well, bye Mr. C. Enjoy the market.”

  I feel his eyes on my back as Maisy and I keep walking. Can’t I get one afternoon away from my problems?

  Apparently not, because every couple-oriented ornament, holiday song, and activity at the market bombard me the further we go. Damn Connor for owning my thoughts. One of his hugs would feel so good right now.

  “Oh damn, look how long the line is.” Maisy motions to the bathrooms, where
she pulled us after the last stall. “Don’t wait up.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

  “It’s fine. Go ahead.” She points at me with a sly smirk. “Keep your eye out for a good prank gift for me.”

  “We can meet up by the tree display in the middle when you’re done,” I offer.

  “Perfect.”

  Leaving Maisy, I tuck my hands in my coat pockets and continue browsing. I’m looking at a vendor with wooden holiday ornaments when I spot Mr. Coleman again at the next booth, enraptured by the jewelry. The necklaces in particular have his attention.

  Uneasiness whispers in my mind. Connor swore he was dangerous.

  I abandon the laser-cut ornament with baking tools dangling beneath a pie to sneak closer, observing Mr. Coleman’s actions. He touches the jewelry with a meticulous focus, stroking each pendant. It brings up the memory of the necklace Henry planned to send me. After selecting one, he stands in line to pay.

  A woman runs the stall, but she hands off Mr. Coleman’s necklace to her teenage daughter while another customer asks her for help. I bite my lip as Mr. Coleman’s eyes light up. He leans closer to the daughter, talking to her. She’s flustered but peeks at him shyly as she packages his purchase. His hand brushes hers as he takes the bag.

  The corners of my mouth turn down. Glancing around, I follow him, keeping several feet behind so I can duck out of sight.

  Mr. Coleman meets up with a girl from Silver Lake High, a sophomore, I think. She doesn’t seem wary as they chat, but I can’t stop watching. He gives her a serene smile, all his attention focused on her. Whatever he says makes her giggle.

  She kind of looks like me. Similar shade of red hair, same white coat I have on today. I swallow as Connor’s voice fills my mind.

  He’s so focused on you at school.

  Maybe it’s because I’m used to him in one setting and now he’s out of that box that has everything feeling so off. It’s not that he’s doing anything crazy, but now that I’m watching him with Connor’s words in my head, it feels questionable.